


White Rose

by ThatGeekyGirl



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Original Female Character - Freeform, Pre-Game(s), Slight Spoilers for the Emperor Part II, slight romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-28 18:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12612932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatGeekyGirl/pseuds/ThatGeekyGirl
Summary: “It’s a preservation spell — used to keep things from rotting or decaying.” This only piqued his interest.“Oh? Please, tell me more, pet.” She looked unsure, questioning almost, as though she did not understand his intent. However she did not keep him waiting this time.“It’s meant to keep food — make it last longer without turning or going bad. I know, it shouldn’t be my top priority, but I’m hoping that if I can figure out how the spell works, how long it lasts and what the effects are…” she trailed off there, eyes darting back to the notebook.“…Then maybe you can preserve a living thing."-A look at Delphie and Lucio's relationship, both before and during the events of the game.





	White Rose

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I posted anything, so have this self-indulgent one shot that I wrote.
> 
> Just as a note -- The second part of this is taken pretty much from the game itself. A lot of the dialogue is lifted directly, if not changed a little bit. I do not claim ownership of the plot, only the bits I added it. Makes it a more cohesive story. Other than that -- Enjoy!

The Count was dying — of that there was no doubt.The plague had taken him into it’s grasp, sunk in it’s claws, and there wasn’t much time left. Julian had been working relentlessly to find answers, and yet Lucio knew soon that it would not matter. The good Doctor’s work would be for naught, and Lucio would be lowered into the ground in a golden coffin, never again to see the light of day.

He did not want to die. There was so much left for him to do upon this earth. He was still so young, in the prime of his life. So much left unfinished, so much left unsaid. He wanted to live a life without regret, but how can anyone accomplish such a feat when so much time is stolen?

Scoffing, Lucio shook his head, trying to rid himself of the morose thoughts. He was not quite dead yet. He still had some spirit left in him. Pushing up against the plush bedding with his arm, he forced himself into a sitting position. He needed to move, to do something other than sit around in his chamber and wait quietly for death to take him. The Doctor would be furious with him, but Lucio cared not. He was not some caged animal. He was still the Count; he gave the orders, he did not take them.

The cool tile met his feet as he swung himself out of bed, standing still for a moment to stop his head from spinning. The temperature was soothing, especially against his blazing skin. Briefly he considered calling for a servant to get him his medicine, but quickly decided against the notion. The servant would just get Julian, and then the Doctor would demand Lucio get back into bed, resulting in yet another fight between the two.

Lucio hated these fights. Not because he disliked arguing, in fact he was rather talented in that regard. It was that it exhausted him to the point that he would have to eventually concede to the Doctor’s point and get back into bed, which he hated. He was not a good loser, and strove to minimize the possibility of being in such a position as much as possible. And so it was better that he swallow his pain; suffer quietly and deal with the discomfort.

Moving across the room to the window, keeping his pace slow, Lucio peered out into the garden below. It was as lovely as ever: the flowers in bloom, the sounds of birds singing sweetly to one another. Undoing the latch, a cool breeze hit his face as he opened the window, bringing with it the scents of freshly cut grass and the land right after rain. A bittersweet smile appeared on Lucio’s face. Before, he’d spent much of his time out there. Wandering the ground with Mercedes and Melchoir, keeping his hunting skills sharp, even occasionally finding himself tucked away into some corner with a young lover, their only audience the stars and moons. Now the grounds stood as a reminder. A reminder of what he was loosing, what he was going to loose if the Doctor didn’t find his damn cure.

A low growl escaped from the back of his throat. Julian had better come up with something, and soon. Lucio wasn’t funding him to fool around while he suffered, locked away in his room. Of course, Julian wasn’t the only one failing him. Having sent out a call for a cure across the land, all kinds had appeared at the castle, hoping that this would be their break. Doctors, apothecaries, physicians, magicians, witches, and even the occasional fortune teller. All had one job — to bring to an end the Red Plague and find a cure. And yet, not one of them had found the damned thing.

Many times he’d been told he had to be patients, that these sort of things took time. But it was Lucio’s life that was on the line, not theirs. He was the one who was suffering, who could feel the creeping claws of death crawling ever closer. He did not want to be patient. He wanted results!

These thoughts churned through his mind as he went to turn away from the window; he’d had enough of this unpleasantness for one day. However, as he was about to go, something caught his attention from down below. A soft hum moved up through the window, the melody one he’d never heard. Curious, he glanced back, anger momentarily forgotten about.

Below he spotted a form sitting amongst the flowers, a battered journal in hand. It took him a moment to recall who it was — Asra’s apprentice. She’d come to the castle with the magician to see if she could help. While the lack of a cure still left a sour taste in his mouth for all those involved, Lucio had to admit that staring at her was amusing. She was scribbling away in her book, humming a mindless tune as she worked. Every so often she would stop what she was doing to look at something in her hand before continuing on. He could not make out what it was, the distance between them and the wide brim of her hat blocking his view.

Had he not been forced to remain cooped up in his room, perhaps he would not have found both her and what she was doing as fascinating as he did. After all, she wasn’t doing anything too interesting. However a lack of communication had gotten to him. He wanted to know more, to see what this girl was up to. And so, he made a decision.

Grabbing a cloak off of his desk chair, Lucio wrapped it around his left half. Usually he would not be caught without his gauntlet on, but that would require servant assistant. While they could not stop him from going out, they could just as easily run and tell Julian. Additionally, all of them were scared of him. The fear wasn’t what bothered him, in fact he relished in it, it was the reasoning behind it. Instead of being intimidated by his power, they were instead intimidated by his disease. He was an unfortunate side effect, a symptom; the red eyes that could easily be passed onto them. And so he shrugged the cloak on himself, and headed for the door.

Stepping out, he found no guards, more than likely on patrol. Instead, laying just outside the door, were the two white hounds. Hearing the noise of the doorway swinging open, both looked to him. Without saying a word, they stood, ready to follow wherever he went. With the hounds behind him Lucio began to walk down the hallways, keeping his head high and shoulders square. He needed to show everyone he was still powerful, that he was still in control.

The walk to the veranda was quiet and uneventful. No one passed by, more than likely because they believed the entire wing to be contaminated. And while he’d usually been escorted everywhere, Lucio had no fear of getting lost. He could move through the castle with his eyes closed, knew every twist and turn. Before too long he arrived at the glass doors leading outside. As he peaked out, he saw the apprentice still sitting amongst the flowers.

Quietly he slipped outside, not wanting to disturb her. At least not yet. Were he too loud, she might spook and run. He was a fearsome sight, and he wanted to know what she was up to. Leaning against the rail, he watched, the proximity allowing him to see her more clearly.

In her hand she clutched a single flower, a daisy if he had to guess. Spinning it around in her fingers, the apprentice would look to it every so often, examining it. Lucio did not understand why, until he noticed a soft light emanating from the petals. Grinning, the apprentice scribbled down notes quickly, seemingly impressed with herself. This occurred a few more times, when suddenly she froze. Seeming as though she’d felt eyes on her, the apprentice looked up slowly.

Upon first look, Lucio noted how soft the apprentice appeared. Her cheeks were rounded, freckles dusted across. Her eyes were warm, the color of caramel. She was not hard ridges and sharp corners like himself, but instead smooth curves. For a moment, he watched her face contort into fear, his red eyes staring her down. But it lasted only for a second, morphing then into confusion.

“Good afternoon, my Lord,” she spoke, standing up quickly and dusting off her dress before dipping into a curtsy, “Is there something I can help you with?”

“What are you doing?” he answered her question with his own, glancing to the flower still clutched in her hand. Blinking, she processed what he’d just asked, following his line of sight. Appearing surprised, she looked back to him.

“I’m just practicing a bit of magic, my Lord,” it seemed as though she thought this answer would be enough to sate his curiosity. In most cases, it would be. But there he stood, waiting expectantly, eyes not leaving her. She shifted on the balls of her feet uncomfortably, before continuing. “It’s a preservation spell — used to keep things from rotting or decaying.” This only piqued his interest.

“Oh? Please, tell me more, pet.” She looked unsure, questioning almost, as though she did not understand his intent. However she did not keep him waiting this time.

“It’s meant to keep food — make it last longer without turning or going bad. I know, it shouldn’t be my top priority, but I’m hoping that if I can figure out how the spell works, how long it lasts and what the effects are…” she trailed off there, eyes darting back to the notebook.

“…Then maybe you can preserve a living thing,” he finished the thought for her. She nodded quickly in affirmation.

“Yes! That’s exactly right!” she seemed excited now, if not a little hesitant. He found it sweet, in a way.

“And, what are your findings so far?” This time the apprentice answered right away.

“Well, they’re mixed. The preservation spell is old, I found it in a tome and have been messing with it for a while. The problem is, the spell only works on things that are no longer living — like I said, it supposed to store food. I think I was able to get it to work on the daisy, which was freshly picked, but recently dead is still dead,” she sighed, and wrinkled her nose a bit, before a thought occurred to her, “Would you like to see it?” This surprised Lucio. No one had wanted to be around him by choice for a while now. Through the shock, he nodded and she quickly joined him on the veranda.

Up close, Lucio smelt the scent of earth and flowers coming off her. There was something else there too, something he couldn’t quite place. It was subtle, but sharp, almost electric. Reaching out, she held the flower out to him. Brushing his fingers against hers, he took the delicate plant from her hand, and inspected it. It did not seem like much was happening, but that was the point of the spell. It felt warm to the touch though, and the sharp smell seemed to be seeping off it as well. Perhaps the scent of magic?

“This is fine… Although the flower choice is less then exciting,” he commented, glancing to the girl. She deflated a little, eyes casting down towards her feet. Lucio felt a pang of guilt — the sickness was making him weak.

“I just meant you could have gone with something more extravagant,” Lucio amended his prior statement, trying to sound a little less harsh, handing her the flower back, “You picked a weed.”

“I didn’t want to take something that would be missed,” she defended weakly, shrugging her shoulders.

“Nonsense — take whatever you’d like. Anything in the garden is yours for the taking. Foxglove, sweet pea, even a white rose if you’d like,” Lucio stated, “they’re my favorite.” That got a small smile out of the girl, and she giggled.

“Thank you, I will keep this in mind,” Lucio wanted to keep speaking with her, when a bark came from next to him. Glancing down, he saw that Mercedes and Melchoir were staring at the doorway, and standing within it was the doctor himself.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the Doctor asked, clearly unimpressed “You are supposed to be resting.” Lucio openly rolled his eyes.

“A person can only rest so much before they can not rest anymore,” he stated plainly. He was about to continue, when the apprentice stepped in.

“It’s partially my fault, Jules,” she said, stepping closer to the red haired man, “the gardens are a rejuvenating place. They can help with the healing process. The Count could use more fresh air.” Julian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“Delphie, you need not make excuses for him,” he addressed the girl, a tone of chiding in his voice, before looking back to Lucio, “Count, please get back to bed. It’s time for your next treatment.” Knowing he was not going to win this fight, Lucio turned and bowed to the apprentice.

“Until next time, Lady Delphie,” he gave her a wink, causing pink to quickly cover the girl’s cheeks.

“Have a good rest of your day, my Lord.” she replied, turning and going back to where she’d been sitting. Lucio followed after Julian, his thoughts now occupied by the girl, instead of his current arrangement. How interesting the witch was. She hadn’t needed to step in on his behalf, and yet she had. There was nothing for her to gain, she’d simply done it on instinct. He was ushered back into bed, and as Julian administered the medicine, Lucio made note to seek her out once more.

Of course, this was if he was ever allowed out of his bed again. Julian became more strict, guards placed outside the door to keep him in. Days had passed, and Lucio was sure he was going to go mad. He had the masquerade to plan, which he was insistent was still going to take place, illness or no, but being alone was so boring.

It was in the middle of this brooding a knock came at the door. Raising an eyebrow, he turned his attention away from himself.

“Yes?” he spoke up, “What is it?”

“You have a visitor, Count Lucio,” one of the guards replied, “She says she was sent by Doctor Devorak…” With a smirk appearing on his face, the Count gave clearance, saying the girl could enter. Softly the door swung open, and there stood Delphie, hands behind her back.

“My Lord,” she curtsied quickly as the door closed behind her, “I hope I’m not bothering you.” He could not shake his head fast enough.

“No no, please, you are not bothering me at all,” he was sure he sounded desperate, but he could not care less, “Please, come in.” Chuckling to herself, Delphie crossed the room, and sat down in the chair adjacent to his bed. There was a moment of silence, before she spoke.

“I brought you something,” tilting his head, Lucio turned so that he was facing her more directly.

“And what would that be?” Pulling her hands out from behind her back, she produced a white rose. It swirled with the same magic as the daisy had, the floral perfume mixing with the energy. Careful to avoid the thorns, Lucio twirled it in his hand.

“Are you trying to win my hand with flowers, pet?” he asked her, the same pink blush spreading across her face as before.

“No, no! I just.. Well, I mean… I figured it might be nice, you know? To have a flower that won’t wilt over time. I didn’t want to take too many from the bush, but I figured that it might, you know, brighten up the room!” she was rambling, trying to explain himself to her, “You won’t need to worry about caring for it, because it can’t die. Or, well, it’s already dead, but also not dead?” Reaching out, Lucio placed his hand on hers, getting her to quiet.

“It’s lovely, thank you,” Delphie nodded quickly, and looked around.

“I um… If you want me to stay and talked with you for a while, I could do that. It must be terribly lonely all day.” The Count felt a warm wave of happiness wash over him.

“I would like that. Very much.” Delphie smiled and nodded, sitting back in the chair.

“What would you like to talk about?”

——————————————————

Delphie fell backwards, making contact with the ash covered bed. It plumed up around her, having been undisturbed for so long. A scream treated to spill from her throat; she was laying in the middle of a dead mans ash. This had been the place he’d died — the place the Count had been incinerated. All around her were the last of his remains, filling up her throat and lungs. Fear pumped through her body, her senses screaming for her to run, to never come back.

She jumped out of the bed, trying to wipe the ash off of her face. In the midst of her thoughtless movements, she hit against something hard with her hip, causing it to fall to the floor. Rearing back in pain and fright, Delphie looked to see a side table, now laying on it’s side. She meant to turn tale and run, but before she could, something caught her eye. Something bright, seeming untouched by the dust and ash.

A single white rose now laid on the ground, haven fallen out of the drawer of the nightstand. Without much thought, she reached down to pick it up, the item seemingly familiar although she could not explain why. As she touched it a sharp thorn pricked her finger, breaking the skin and drawing blood to the surface. She let out a hiss of pain, her hand retracting.

 _“Poor thing — Going so soon?”_ a voice called out, seeming to come from all corners of the room. Before, she had thought that maybe it was all in her head, but now it was surrounding her.

“Who’s there? Who are you?” she calls out into the darkness, begging for explanation. Suddenly the room get cold, frigid enough where she is sure she can see her breath. A weak crying sound comes from a mound of ash on the floor, and it does not sound human.

 _“Who am I? Nobody… Nobody at all.”_ There is a groaning sound that follows, and movement rippling across the fabric dropped chair. The movement continues on, stopping only at the portrait. A wistful sigh comes from the voice, as if it is remembering painful memories.

 _“Now this specimen of a man, clad in beautiful gold, wrapped in these beautiful, beautiful furs… **He** was somebody.”_ There is a sharp sound against the canvas as though someone is running their hand down it, but Delphie can see no one there. Scrambling back to her feet, she makes a break for the door, which delights the voice. It cackles, and it feels as though the air is being sucked from her lungs.

When she finally reaches the door she yanks it open at full force, running out until she collides with the wall opposite. She lets out a yelp as she feels the cold stone slam against her, but she keeps running, refusing to slow down. The wall is lined with portraits of people she can not see in the dull light, who’s gazes feel as though they are upon her. She keeps running past them, until she sees the end of the hallway. Skidding to a stop, she sees a figure in the shadows. Horns sit atop the figures head, and although it stands on two feet, it is not human. Red eyes stare at her, burning through her body. It’s as though she’s been blasted with heat, everything is too warm. The shadow moves though, down the hall to the right.

 _“You may want to follow me, pet. I have a surprise for you”_ a voice purrs from behind her, and Delphie swears she feels fingers brushing up against her hair. She knows she should not follow, that she needs to get out of this place… And yet she follows, as though she is being yanked by a chain.

Around the corner, she sees another portrait, the final one. It is obscured partially by shadow, but enough weak light streams threw that she can make out the shapes. Before her stands the same impressive man, clad in furs and jewels. His left arm she notices is a dazzling gold, each finger ending in a claw like shape.

It takes her a moment to process; This is Count Lucio. They’ve all been of Count Lucio. But this one… This one is different. His eyes have been shredded, as though an animal came through and ripped through the canvas.

 _“Vanity can be such a hassle,”_ the voice sighs, and this time Delphie can pinpoint an exact location. She looks down the hall, seeing a spectral light. She can only see it for a second, a silhouette lined in smoke against the wall. Horns, hooves, and claws make up the body of the beast, and staring at her with red eyes is the head of a goat. As soon as she looks, it’s gone, and there is a loud clamoring up the marble steps to the side.

Delphie stands frozen, her entire body tensed. There is a yelp, but this time, it is not her who makes the sound. Whipping around, Delphie sees the rabbit guard standing in front of her. The two take a few moments, staring at the other in disbelief.

“How did you… Where did you…” the rabbit guard can not seem to formulate a sentence. Delphie searches around the hall quickly, heart still pounding against her ribs, but she realizes that they are alone. After she has confirmed this, she thinks of her appearance, and lets out a groan.

“…I need a bath,” she states simply, knowing there is no way to answer the guards questions at the moment. The rabbit guard nods as they lower the defensive stance they’d taken.

“Then you shall have one. But first,” reaching into a previously unseen pocket, the rabbit guard pulls something out, and Delphie’s heart leaps. The Emperor card! She is relieved to see finally see a familiar face. Reaching out to grab it, the guard’s hesitant smile turns into a look of horror.

“Your hand!” looking down, Delphie understands the reaction. Blood seeps from her curled fist, within it’s grasp is the white rose. She does not remember taking it from the room, much less holding it this tightly. There is once more silence. Delphie doesn’t know how to reply.

“Come on then,” the guard finally says, placing a hand lightly on Delphie’s shoulder, “Lets get you out of here.” She nods wordlessly, moving down the hall as the guard guides her, trying to understand what in the world just happened.


End file.
